You Can't Break Her

Chapter fifteen: part thirteen | August

August 2005
Patrick's house
Bayhollow, Ontario

Patrick and I were sitting on the couch in the living room of the house. I got him the J. A. G. DVD box, that I ordered online. He ripped the box open quickly, because I can't keep a secret and told him what it was as he was sitting down to open it.

He scooped me up off my seat and spun me for a second. When he put me down, he had a far off look in his eye, it was as though I watched the light bulb appear over his head. His face lit up and he moved quickly around me and down into his bedroom in the basement.

I followed him down the steep stairway and ducked to avoid the low ceiling over the landing. "Do you like it?" I knew the answer, obviously, he loved that show but his response was still unexpected. I watched him get it all set up in the DVD player and push his mattress to centre it with the television.

He set the pillows up so we could see while laying down and then gestured for me to pick a side.

"So you like it?" Any bit of conformation at this point would have done.

"Of course. I love it!" He grabbed the remotes and sat on the side that was closest to him. "But, you have to watch it with me. I don't know how much you're going to like that." He half laughed and patted the bed next to him.

He pressed play and I can honestly say he ignored me for a good hour or two. Not that I minded, I watched his face for the first hour and it was a good show. At the time, I was still thinking law would be a good fit for me. Alas, arguing was not the only factor necessary to achieve my dream of becoming a lawyer, and that created many boundaries.

We took breaks to get snacks and do other things, but it was all that we watched until we completed every episode. Somewhere around the fourth season, there was a knock at the door. We looked at each other, but neither of us was expecting company, and it was lunch time on a Wednesday.

I went to get up, but he put his hand up to stop me. "I'll get it." He tried to see from the bottom of the stairs but shook his head and started up the stairs when that failed.

I heard the door open, and Patrick exchanged a few words that I didn't hear because I was still sitting in the basement.

Then his heavy feet thundered down the stairs a few steps, just until he could make eye contact. "Ama, your brother is here."

His tone matched my emotions, disbelief and shock were rocking my world, and I couldn't do anything. "Okay." I had to say something, I stood and waited.

A moment later, they stomped down the wooden stairs. It had been seven years since we had seen each other. He wasn't a little boy anymore, and I was still blown away.

"H— hi," I whispered, I cleared my throat. "I— I don't know what to say." I stammered over thoughts that were irrelevant but still so relevant in my mind. All the things I had seen that involved him, I just wanted to spill every thought and memory I had of him. "How did you find me?"

Patrick sat on the stairs, watching the interaction.

Trevor stayed standing. "I heard from a friend that you were dating a guy named Patrick, who lived on Main Street." He seemed bashful as he disclosed his sources, like I wouldn't want him to visit.

"I found the address." He shrugged his shoulders and played it so cool, like it didn't mean everything to both of us. But we weren't taught to show those things. That ability was a weakness that got you hurt.

"And now here I am." He opened his arms, and I ran to hug him.

Seven years.

We caught up as much as you could in an hour, and I gave him a stereo because I couldn't do anything for him. I lived with my foster parents, and they had my sister as well. I would have given him vital organs if that was what he needed. He was a bright shining light in my memories, and I loved him, I couldn't be with him because of our separation, but he was still my little brother.

Patrick drove him back to his school and returned in an annoyed state.

"What's the matter?" I asked him as he slammed the car door.

He marched the few feet to me. "Did you notice that he wasn't wearing shoes?"

I blinked slowly and shook my head. "You let him in, and that's the weirdest question that you've ever asked me." I started to laugh but was stopped when his expression didn't change. "What? What happened?"

He pulled out a pack of smokes from his jacket pocket and handed me one. He lit his and leaned back against the car. "He ran away from the school. He wasn't wearing shoes because they kept them so this didn't happen. He found a way out and walked here from a ten minute drive down the street." He shook his head. "That kid loves you. He's really impulsive. He also threatened me." He pushed off the car and came closer to me. "But if he loves you, he's cool with me." He kissed my forehead, and we returned to the basement to watch show.